


what doesn't kill me better start running

by kawiikitkat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Bullying, Explicit Language, F/F, Homophobic Language, Inspired by Fight Club, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Trans Male Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-16 12:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15436785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawiikitkat/pseuds/kawiikitkat
Summary: Peter's life was hard. He didn't have much money or many friends. His parents were dead and his aunt always worried about him. He had a crush on his best friend and had gender dysphoria. And he got beat up.Yeah. Life was hard.Until a rag-tag group of fighters rolled up to his part of Queens and made a name for themselves. The Avengers.





	1. Hard Knock Life

**Author's Note:**

> This au is inspired by Fight Club, but doesn't have to do with the actual plot of the film or book.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I want to go to sleep and never wake up._

Peter Parker's life was hard. He lived in a shitty part of town with his aunt in a run down apartment. He only had one good friend who so happened to also be his crush. And the assholes at his school didn't seem to like him at all, clearly demonstrated by the number of times they've thrown a few punches at him in the halls or in an alleyway outside of school.

He got used to the attacks and the stupid names. But sometimes, when he was alone in his room and couldn't sleep, he'd sit in the grief. He'd look at the cuts and bruises on his arms and legs and wonder if they would ever go away.

When he was younger, and Uncle Ben was still alive, he would dream about the day the he, May, Ben, and Ned would leave this apartment and live in a real house. He'd dream about having friends and falling in love. Maybe one day he would have surgery and not feel strange when he looked at his own body. Maybe one day he would kiss his boyfriend and not be laughed at. Maybe.

Maybe.

But those were simpler times when he was young and oblivious. Now all he could do is sit in bed on a Thursday night and look at the ugly scars on his limbs. There were so many that they would look like a blur of stars in the night sky. Distant and insignificant.

But others he remembered well. Like the bruise on his right shoulder when he was shoved against a locker on the first week of school. Or the cut on his ankle when someone flicked a piece of broken metal at his legs.

Peter held his legs against his chest, his knees up to his chin. He didn't cry though. He only cried when things felt _really bad_. Now wasn't so bad. He layed his head back down against the pillow and stared blankly at the ceiling.

He shut his eyes and the darkness welcomed him. But sleep didn't. Sleep was still miles away. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

He opened his eyes. All he saw was the popcorn textured ceiling. If he looked closely, he could see a face or two.

Peter closed his eyes again. Darkness.

Open. Ceiling.

Close. Dark.

Fuck. He was tired.


	2. Hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _God, you're so amazing. And I'm so not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicize text = Past actions
> 
> Bold text = Thoughts
> 
> Normal text = Current actions

_"Are you sure this is the right piece?"_

_"Yes, I'm sure! It says it right here."_

_"Okay. You're the boss, Pete."_

_Ned hands him the blue Lego brick. Peter reaches out for it._

**His hands are so soft.**

_Peter snaps the brick into its location. Both boys beam at their creation. Without hesitation, they reach over to each other and perform their celebratory handshake._

_"Nice work, Pete!"_

_"Thanks, bud. And thank you for building the main base. I definitely couldn't have figured it out without your help."_

_"Yeah, no problem. You always sulked at doing that part." Ned chuckles._

_"Hey!" Peter playfully punches his friend in the shoulder. Ned returns the harmless attack by flicking him in the nose. They continue to pester each other and laugh._

**His laugh is amazing.**

_"Ah, shit. What time is it?"_

_"Umm, almost 12:30."_

_"Shoot! It's super late. I should probably start heading home." Ned is already standing up._

_"No way, man! It's Saturday night! Besides, I'm sure May won't mind if you stay the night. Just ask you mom if you can crash here." Peter looks at him with puppy dog eyes._

_Ned ponders for a bit. "Alright, I'll call her."_

_Peter gives a little cheer. He stands up, gathers his pijamas, and heads to the bathroom to change. As he walks out he hears Ned call out to him, "I call top bunk!"_

_Peter locks himself in the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror for a few moments._

**What are you doing?! What am I doing?!?**

_When he's done changing, he goes back to his bedroom where he finds Ned already in his Star Wars PJ's sitting on the top bunk._

_Peter settles himself into the bottom bunk, ready to turn off the light, when he hears Ned ask, "Hey, Pete? Can I talk to you for a sec?"_

**Oh no oh no oh no oh no.**

_"Yeah, no prob."_

_"Have you- okay this is gonna sound weird but,- have you ever wanted to do something when you know it's impossible."_

_"Yeah."_

_"Like what?"_

**Hold you. Kiss you. Love you. Fuck you. Be with you.**

_"I guess I've always wanted to move out of here and live someplace better with Aunt May. And you, of course."_

_"Heh, me too. But the thing I was thinking about was...well I've always wanted to stand up for myself. All those names and shit they call us. I'm fed up. But I can't fight and it hurts to just let it all happen. Y'know?"_

_"Yeah. I know exactly what you mean, Ned."_

Open. Ceiling.

Peter could feel his heart drumming against his ribcage. Tears threatened in the corner of his eyes. His body ached for love and comfort. His mind swarmed with thoughts of 'what if' and 'if only' and 'one day'.

It hurt. More than the scars.

Close. Dark.


	3. "Superheros"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They don't need knives to cut me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes an attempted sexual assault and graphic language.

"You hear about the party at Ashley's tomorrow?" Ned asked, ambling besides Peter.

"Yup. Not sure if I'm planning on going though." Peter replied. He was never a big fan of parties, or any social event with lots of annoying people and blaring music.

"C'mon! It might be fun! We'll just stay for a little bit, I promise." His friend looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. Peter huffed, thinking for a few moments.

"Fine, just for a little bit." Ned smiled. Both boys continued down the sidewalk till they reached Ned's apartment, which was before Peter's. After their usual goodbyes, Peter kept trudging his way home. Rounding the corner, he saw a group of four guys leaned against a wall, wearing all black and smoking cigarettes. They appeared to be high school kids, maybe one year above Peter. They fit the definition of "people you would never want to come across late at night." As Peter walked past them, he ducked his head down, focusing on his shoes moving quickly across the pavement. However, that didn't stop them from taking a good look at him.

One wearing a skull t-shirt whistled his way. "Hey, pretty boy! Need a ride home?" The others snickered.

Peter felt his heart racing. He picked up the pace. "Hey, pussy! I'm talking to you!" He heard him call from behind. Peter wanted to look back to see if they were possibly following him, but he was too terrified. Then he heard the teen say something inaudible.

Then there were heavy footsteps behind him.

Peter wasn't much of an athletic kid. But he **ran.** And he ran hard. He could hear the thudding behind him like a stampede of angry bulls. His ears were filled with nothing but his own breathing and footsteps. His mind was only focused on getting out of there alive.

Then he felt himself stop entirely as one of the more muscular kids snagged his book bag and pinned him against a wall. The back of his head throbbed by the impact. Skull T-shirt kid inched closer to him until Peter could see every ugly feature in his face. Bleach blond hair covered half of his face and he wore a cynical smile.

"You're Parker?" He asked, though it didn't quite sound like a question. Peter vigorously shook his head no. The teen reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rectangular black object. He swore to God that his heart stopped beating a full minute when he saw him press a little silver button and a blade shot out of one of the ends.

"I'm going to ask you again. You Peter Parker?" His voice was almost snake like.

"Y-yes! I'm Peter! What do you want?! I'll give you money!" Peter squealed.

"Quiet, bitch!" A buff kid with a shaven head piped up.

"We know your little secret, Pete." He pointed the blade towards his crotch area.

**Shit. Shit shit shit.**

"But, hey, listen. If you don't want anyone else finding out about it, then we won't tell." He smirked. The rest of his group laughed in anticipation. "Just come with us. We'll have a little _fun."_

"W-what?" Peter was quivering.

"Oh, come on! They teach you this shit in fifth grade! Besides, we know you're not into chicks. You'll be having more fun than all of us!"

Peter felt sick. And fucking furious. Completely forgetting about the knife in Skull Shirt's hand, he spat at him. A glob of saliva landed right on his cheek.

The teen stammered backwards, stunned. His eyes glowed with rage. "You filthy, little fa-"

"Is there a problem here?"

Peter and the gang of kids paused and looked in the direction of the voice. On their left stood two grow men. One wore a grey flannel around his waist and a red shirt. His hair and beard were dark brown, almost black. His left hand was bandaged, but blood was still visible. The other was slightly shorter and wore a purple and black hoodie.

"What are you, cops? Fuck off!" One of the kids from the group hollered. "Yeah, this doesn't concern you, old man." The blond kid waved his knife at the adults, spit still rolling down his cheek.

"Heh, that's cute." The hooded man said. He then dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a much larger blade. It seemed to already be used before. The teen nearly dropped his own in surprise.

"You got something on your face." The bearded man jeered. In an instant, the gang scurried away. The blood teenager glared at the three from over his shoulder as he trailed behind.

Peter was still cowering against the wall, staring at the fleeing group of boys. _Assholes._

"Hey, kid, you alright?" The man with the flannel asked. The other guy had already put his knife away. Peter only nodded, still to shocked to speak. He just couldn't process what just happened. He felt sick to his stomach.

"Do you want us to walk you home? Call a cab maybe?" The other man suggested.

"Uh- I d-don't know. Could you walk with me just for a few blocks? My apartment isn't far from here." Peter muttered.

"No problem, kid." The three started making their way towards Peter's place. "I'm Tony, by the way. And this," he gestured towards his friend, "is Clint."

"Peter. Um- thanks for, y'know, saving me back there."

"Yeah, we love to pick a good fight once in a while. Especially Clint. This cut here." Tony raised his bandaged hand and let out a dramatic huff. "Never pick a knife fight with this dude." The two men laughed up a storm and Peter couldn't help but chuckle along, too.

"I'm kinda bummed, Tones. That jerk needed a good haircut." Clint chortled. "His face when I pulled out mine was priceless."

"Hey, if you guys don't mind me asking, what's like your 'deal'? You pick fights with random people or...?" Peter questioned.

"Nah, just assholes. Catcallers, racists, bullies. That sort." Tony replied.

"Oh. So you guys are like... superheros? Just without superpowers."

"Ha! Some heros we are! World's shittiest superheros." Clint hollered.

After a few minutes, they arrived at Peter's apartment building. They haven't even noticed that they walked all the way there. "Well, I guess this is farewell. You guys are pretty cool!"

"That's the first compliment we've gotten since we got here! Thanks, kid. Maybe we'll catch you around town some other time." Clint concluded. He was already making his way down the sidewalk. Tony lingered on the steps, though.

"Hey, Peter." The teen perked up at Tony's voice. "Be careful." Tony smiled at him. He then followed Clint, leaving Peter on the steps.

He entered his apartment, greeting his aunt. "Hey May! I'm home."

May entered the living room from the kitchen. "Oh, hey Petey. You came home a little late. I was starting to get a little worried."

Peter panicked for a second. Did he really want to tell May what happened and make her worry even more? "Oh, I just got caught up with something at school. Nothing really."

"Oh, what a relief! Help me set the table for dinner before going into your room."

Once dinner was set out on the table, Peter fiddled with the remote to the TV, switching to random channels. His eye caught something on the news. On the screen appeared some video footage of some people in a parking lot at night. A lady in black clothing and short, red hair was kicking and punching a man who, according to the headline, had catcalled her and another woman. In the background of the fight stood a group of five men and a woman. Peter almost dropped the remote when he noticed two of the guys from the group.

One was wearing a grey flannel, the other a purple and black hoodie. _Huh._

"Oh, Pete, turn that crap off. It always makes me anxious when you walk home alone. This just makes it worse." Peter switched the channel to a late night talk show. He and Aunt May ate their food peacefully. Peter internally smiled.

_World's shittiest superheros._


	4. I'm Not A "Pretty Boy"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How did it ever come to this. I should have never come to this._

Peter fidgeted with the sleeve of his sweater nervously. He really didn't want to come to this party. Even Aunt May didn't want him to go. So why was he in Ned's mom's car on the way to some random girl's house with strangers?

Was it Ned's pleading eyes and little pout when he asked yesterday after school? Probably. Most likely. Definitely. There was no other reason.

Mrs. Leeds stopped the car by the sidewalk near Ashley's massive house. High schoolers were already flooding the lawn, many holding red solo cups that were probably filled with some sort of cheap alcohol. Lights and loud music streamed from inside the mansion. Ashley, who Peter barely knew by the way, lived in one of the more richer parts of the neighborhood, far from Peter's place.

"Alright, this is it." Ned spoke. "Thanks for driving us, mom." He opened the car door and exited.

"Thanks, Mrs. Leeds." Peter followed Ned towards the party. His heart was already feeling off beat. There were so many people. Too many.

The doors to the house were already wide open, kids going in and out like crazy. Inside was even worse. Ned and Peter arrived pretty early, but most of the partygoers were already tipsy. It was fucking insane. Peter must have looked overwhelmed, because Ned was tugging at his sleeve.

"You alright, Pete? We can stay outside if you want." Ned was gleaming up at him. It hurt Peter's heart by how concerned his friend was for him. But he didn't want to turn back now.

"I'm fine, Ned. Let's just go have fun!" Peter said with fake enthusiasm. The least he could do was let Ned be happy for tonight. Ned waded towards the crowd at the center of the party. The music was blaring and the strobe lights were blinding.

And the people. They were all dancing or jumping or running. Nothing seemed to stop. Everyone yelled instead of talked and it was all to fast for him. Peter felt like a pebble thrown into a violent river. He didn't even realize until now that he had lost Ned.

He panicked for a bit, but just guessed that he went deeper into the crowd and that he would look for him later. Peter headed towards the refreshments table in the kitchen, dodging random people on the way.

The table was covered with nothing but booze. Cans and bottles of beer. Bright red cups. A keg stand that was probably already empty stood in the corner.

Aunt May had told him earlier that day, "Don't drink or do drugs or have sex or ANYTHING that could get you killed." It seemed a bit extreme, at least the drugs and sex part. But here he stood looking at a chaotic display of booze. He never tried beer, nor did he want to. The most he ever drank was a sip of champagne during New Years. But he was thirsty and bored and overwhelmed. He picked up a green glass bottle.

It was gross.

Beer in hand, he looked over the sea of drunk toddlers, searching for Ned. There was no sign of him. Peter sighed and regretfully took another sip of the drink. He took out his phone. On his lock screen glowed the time '9:52'. It wasn't too late, but he just didn't feel right here. He decided to text Ned. 

**Sry for bailing but i think I'm going home. Super sorry bro :(**

Hopefully Ned would understand. He stuffed the phone back into his jean pocket and moved towards the exit. He was walking across the lawn when he felt something hit him in the leg. It was an empty beer can. When he looked at the direction the trash came from, his heart fell to the ground.

"Well, well, _hic,_ well." The blond kid from yesterday stumbled closer to him. "If it isn't p-pretty boy." He was obviously drunk, and from what Peter could see, alone. The rest of his gang was nowhere in sight.

"I see you don't have your two _hic_ buddies with you, eh Parker." Blondie laughed. Even from a few feet away Peter could smell the booze on him.

Peter wasn't sure if he had his knife on him, so he was uneasy. Still, he was drunk and alone, so he could probably outrun him without any trouble. He started to walk away. Turns out one of his questions had been answered.

"You wanna get cut, bitch? I'll cut your gay ass!" Peter's blood grew cold, not by the knife, but by what he just said. He froze.

"Piss off, Marcus!" A boy standing nearby shouted. Apparently the kid's name was Marcus. Peter turned to look at him. He was standing hunched over, pointing his blade at him.

Peter realized that he was still holding the bottle in his hand. He wasn't entirely sure if he would regret this or not, but he jerked the bottle at Marcus, causing the alcohol to splash all over him. A couple teens looked in their direction. Some egged Peter on.

"You're fucking dead, you bastard!" Marcus leaped towards him with his weapon. On instinct, Peter slammed the beer bottle at his head. Green glass shattered against his skull, knocking Marcus back. A visible cut on his forehead leaked blood. Many kids in the background gasped. A few cheered.

Marcus feel to the ground, grasping at the wound. Peter, now filled with adrenaline, crouched down. He glared at the kid dead in the eye.

"Never call me pretty boy."

Peter dropped the broken end of the glass onto the ground and left.

The night air was cold. His head was aching. He wasn't even sure how he was going to get home. He didn't have money for a cab and it was too far to walk. He could try calling Ned's mom or May. He pulled out his phone. Instead of the usual lockscreen, it was a symbol of a battery with a red cross.

**Fuck. My. Life.**

He was hopeless. The only way home was walking, which was about seven miles away. He headed off down the dark sidewalk. Desperate, he tried to see if the glowing symbol for dead batteries was enough light to clearly see. As he was staring at his phone, he bumped into someone.

"Oh! S-sorry! I wasn't looking and-" Peter stammered.

"It's alright! Are you okay?" The man he had bumped into was short with glasses and a green sweater. Next to him was a much taller, more muscular blond man.

For some reason, they looked...familiar. Peter's mind flashed back to the news from last night. They were two of the guys that were next to Tony and Clint!

"Hey, I've seen you guys before! Well, on the news."

"You did? Well, I wasn't aware that we were even being filmed. Did you know that, Bruce?" The taller man spoke with an Australian accent.

"Oh, Tony told me something about it."

"You know Tony? And Clint?" Peter asked. Both men seemed surprised.

"How do you know them?" The one referred to as Bruce asked.

"Well, they kinda helped me out yesterday. And I saw them on the news with you so..."

"Oh! You must be the boy named Peter!" The larger man exclaimed. "Yes, Tony and Clint told us about you."

"Yup, that's me." Peter smiled. "I just came from a party, but I have no way to get home." Maybe he could get a ride from these guys.

"Oh, well that's a shame. I hope you find a solution." Welp. The big guy was already walking off when Bruce pulled at his arm.

"Thor, buddy. He wants us to help him."

"Oh."

And so the three piled into a car, Peter riding in the back seat and Bruce driving. Peter already gave him his address.

"So, you're name is Thor. Like the god?" Peter questioned, curious.

"It was a name change. I prefer not to reveal my dead one."

"Yeah, me too." Peter replied. Now he wondered what it would be like to have a cool god-like name. Maybe he should have gone for Zeus or Apollo instead?

After a few minutes, they arrived. Peter got out of the car and thanked them. The two men drove off. As Peter climbed up the steps to his apartment, he wondered how many more times he would need to be saved by those strange heros. When he entered, he heard no one greet him. Peter assumed that May must just be napping, so he headed to his room to charge his phone.

Once he was able to turn it on, he checked for any new messages. There were a few from Aunt May asking when he'll be coming back home. Then there was one from Ned.

_thats fine pete do you have a way to get home??_

_Hello???_

**Hey Ned yeah I'm home rn**

A few minutes later Ned responded.

_thank god lol how did u get home_

Peter pondered over this for a few seconds. Then he replied.

**just a friend :P goodnight bud**


	5. Meet the Superheroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We're the people your parents warned you about, kid._

Peter walked out of a little sandwich shop he visited frequently after school or on weekends. It was Sunday morning and the day was beautifully warm. This type of weather wasn't common in New York, so Peter appreciated it. He was holding a bag with two sandwiches and a bag of gummy worms. May had asked him to go out a buy lunch for the both of them.

She had also told him to go outside for today since it was so nice. May usually felt anxious when Peter went out by himself, but she figured Peter wouldn't get into too much trouble if he went out for one day.

As he was walking out, he spotted a group of adults hanging around a car. He immediately recognized Tony, Clint, Bruce, and Thor. However, there were three people that he didn't know. Two women sat on the hood of the car and a blond, well-built man stood next to Tony.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to go up to them or not, but he already saw Tony notice him from across the street. He waved at him, then left him spot from the group and headed towards him.

"Hey, kid! Glad to see you, again." Tony was wearing sunglasses and a black t-shirt. Peter noticed a fresh scar on his neck.

"Yeah, nice to see you, too."

"Y'know what I heard last night? That you got into trouble _again._ " Tony sarcastically shook his head in disappointment. Peter gave an embarrassed laugh. 

"Y-yeah, sorry! I was walking home from a party and-"

"Hey, I'm just joking with you, Pete." Tony placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Besides, ever since I told my friends about you on Friday, they've been dying to meet you."

Peter was surprised and flattered. "Well, I don't mind meeting them right now. I'm not busy or anything."

"Yeah, absolutely! They're just over there." Tony motioned towards the car. Him and Peter crossed the street over to the group of adults. As they neared them, Tony leaned over to Peter and whispered, "Don't be intimidated by them. They may look tough, but they're softies. Unless you piss them off."

A woman with short, scarlet hair poked her head up when she saw them arrive. "Here comes Tony with another stray." She quipped. The woman next to her elbowed her lightly.

"Don't be mean, Nat." Clint said. "Let's not forget that you were one of Tony's many strays, too." The rest of the group chuckled. Nat reached over and punched Clint in the shoulder.

"Okay, okay. Chill out, morons. This here is Peter. Peter, meet the morons." Tony announced.

"That's Natasha and Pepper." The two women waved.

"You already met Bruce, Thor, and Clint. And this hunk over here," Tony walked over to the remaining man and slung his arm over his shoulder, "is Steve."

"Hi, everyone." Peter simply smiled.

"Hey, Tones, tell the kid about our plans for today." Steve nudged him.

"Oh, right. Listen, Peter. We were planning on heading out near the park and... cleaning it up. Your welcome to join if your not busy."

Peter wasn't exactly sure what he meant by "cleaning up". And he wasn't even sure if Aunt May would allow him to go out with these people. But the day was nice and he had time to spare. "I don't mind going. I just have to be home by five or my aunt will go crazy."

"Aw, the kid's got a curfew." Nat joked. "Don't worry 'but it, bud."

The group headed off on foot towards a nearby park. It was partially full since it was the weekend, but they didn't walk towards the main area. Instead, they walked towards a small secluded building off to the side. Upon further inspection, the walls were littered with random writing and graffiti.

"This is where you saw them, Thor?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, while on our drive home. It was right..." Thor wandered around the building for a moment, then stopped. "Here!"

On the wall was written "GAY SEX IS SIN" in bold spray paint. "Fucking idiots." Tony grimaced. Nat set down a backpack she was wearing and opened it up. She pulled out a can of spay paint and shook it.

She smirked. "These assholes fell right into the perfect trap." Nat sprayed the paint over the "S" in sin till there was just a black blob. The group stepped back to observe her masterpiece.

"GAY SEX IS IN" the wall now read. "Classic." Clint said approvingly.

"Wish they'd gone for something a little more creative." Tony spoke. "Then we could have had more fun."

Peter was awed by their actions. For all of the years he had lived in this shitty part of town, he had never seen someone stand up to the bullshit he saw everyday. Anytime he would come across any bigoted writing or imagery, he would look away, disgusted. He would get an uneasy feeling in his stomach, like someone was watching him and _judging_ him. _Hating him._ It made him feel sick.

But now he felt proud. That other people were sick of it, too. That people were giving these assholes the middle finger.

"Care to do the honors, Tones?" Nat held the can towards Tony. "Gladly." Tony took it and sprayed the wall. Peter couldn't exactly tell what he was painting at first. Tony then stepped back. The image was an "A" with an arrow through the middle, surrounded by a circle.

"What's the 'A' for?" Peter asked.

"It's a logo." Steve answered. "A few years ago, we would go around different cities and mess up this kind of graffiti. Or sometimes we would write our own shit. But people kept coming back and wrote over it. So we would wait there until those jerks came back and we would scare them off. Sometimes we would pick a fight. After a while, we decided that we wanted to make a name for ourselves."

Thor continued for him. "The name we chose: The Avengers. So after we would do our job, we would write the 'A'. But we never told anyone what it actually stood for, so the locals would have to guess or make up a random name. Bruce here actually made a list of all the names we've been called."

"The most common name is 'the A-team', but some like to call us 'the assholes'." Bruce interjected.

"Holy shit. That's the coolest thing I've ever heard!" Peter resounded. The rest of the group beamed. Tony ruffled Peter's hair.

"Thanks, kiddo. But I think it's time for you to head home." Peter checked his phone, which read "4:48."

"Oh, right! Well, it's been nice meeting you guys." Peter and Tony started making their way out of the park. The others declared their goodbyes and watched as they walked away. One they were far from ear shot, Pepper leaned into Nat.

"Y'know, I really like that kid, but I sure hope that he doesn't rope him into all of this. He seems too young and innocent." Pepper voiced her concern.

"I have to agree with you, Peps. That kid is something else. All wide-eyed and cute, like a puppy." Nat grinned, then turned her head towards Steve. "Hey, Stevie. Tell your boyfriend to not get that kid into trouble, m'kay?"

Steve nodded, but kept his eyes focused on the disappearing figures in the distant.

Peter and Tony continued down the sidewalk towards his apartment. They were silent, but Peter still had a few questions in mind. "Hey, Tony, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"What's the question, Pete?"

"Do you just go around and clean up graffiti for a living? Like, how do you guys make money?"

Tony took off his glasses and fidgeted with them in his hands for a moment, thinking. "Well, no. Pepper works at a little office for a company. She's the only one out of all of us that has a stable job. Clint and Bruce go around and job hunt from time to time. Steve, Thor, Nat, and I make cash by fighting other gangs and betting on money. It's terrible, I know, but it's how we live."

"Hm. Doesn't sound great, no offense." Peter excused. Tony didn't seem to mind. "Do you...do you guys ever get sick of it? Having to fight and all that?"

Tony was silent for a while. Peter was about to apologize for overstepping, but Tony broke in. "Yeah, but at the end of the day, we're together. So it doesn't bother us too much." They stopped, for they had reached Peter's doorstep. "Anyways, good luck with everything, kid. Hey, y'know what?" Tony dug deep into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wrinkled slip of paper and a pen. He pressed the paper against a wall and scribbled a few numbers on it. He handed the slip to Peter.

"If you get into any trouble, call me." Tony patted his shoulder. "And Peter? We may seem like good people and things we do are right, but don't be like us. You're young and smart, don't fuck up your life. There's a lot about us you don't know. See ya, kid."

And with that, Tony left. Peter felt like his final words were...cryptic. But he didn't let it bother him too much. He put the piece of paper into the case of his phone and entered his building with his sandwich bag in hand for him and May.


	6. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You make flowers grow in my chest. I want to pluck them out and put them in your hair._

Peter sat at his desk, the lamp illuminating the mess of homework sprawled on the table. Ned layed on his stomach on the ground, his preferred way of working. Peter tried to focus on the chemistry work on the sheet of paper, but something was pestering him.

A throbbing pain lingered in his chest even though he had taken his worn-out binder off. He would only wear his binder in public. He was staring to get a headache, too. Peter involuntary bounced his leg, his knee slamming into the desk a few time. He knew it would bruise later, but he just needed to get his mind off the pain for right now.

"Pete? You alright?"

"Hm?" Peter barely noticed the worried voice of his friend behind him. He turned his head around to look at him. "Yeah, I'm good."

Ned wasn't fully convinced. "You sure? You usually bounce your leg like that when your anxious. Is something bothering you?"

Peter didn't answer for a moment. He was hyper aware of his ribs pressing needles into his chest and stomach. He sighed. "It's cramps."

"Shit, bud. I'm sorry. Should I go get your aunt?" Ned asked with concern.

"No, no. I'll go get her." Peter stood up from his chair with some struggle. "I'll be right back." He headed into the kitchen where Aunt May was storing away leftovers.

"May, can you get the heating pad, please?" His voice was weak.

"Aw sweetheart, of couse." Immediately, May reached into a nearby cupboard and pulled out the pad. And by "pad", it was really just a sock filled with rice. (But hey, actual heating pads aren't cheap.)

After a few seconds in the microwave, it was ready. May handed it to Peter, who pressed it into his chest. The warmth spread through his chest, soothing the pain.

"Thanks, May."

"No problem, Petey." Aunt May leaned in and kissed his temple. "Just know that I'm always here for you. Okay?"

"Okay." Peter headed back to his room, where Ned remained on the floor, still working.

"Feeling any better?"

"Yup." Peter simply replied. Instead of sitting back down at his desk, he walked over to his bed and sat down. He let out a heavy sigh. "I might just finish this work tomorrow morning. I'm just not feeling it right now."

"Don't worry, bro. I'm almost done. I'll let you copy off mine, no sweat."

"Thanks, Ned. You're a lifesaver." Peter layed back onto the soft mattress.

"Anything for you, pal." They were silent for a while. Ned looked at Peter, who layed motionless on the bed. He thought Peter had fallen asleep, but then, without sitting up, he spoke.

"This sucks."

"What does?"

"Everything." Peter didn't even care how childish he sounded. "I just hate waking up early every morning and taking a shower and looking down and...seeing me. And it doesn't show who I am."

"Pete-"

"And I hate going to school and have people look at me. And they only look at what I'm not. The names are stupid but they hurt. They hurt a lot. And I hate that they hurt cause I thought that maybe, one day, they'd stop hurting."

"Peter, listen-"

"You're the only friend I have, Ned. And you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And if I ever lose you, then I don't know...I don't know what I would do."

"Peter, you're not gonna lose me. I'll still be here for you." Peter was still laying down. "And people say and do shitty things to you and it's fucking terrible. But I care about you. May cares about you. There are probably so many people out there who care about you!"

Peter sat up. His eyes were puffy and red. His cheeks were stained with tears. But he was smiling. "Thanks, Ned." His voice was raspy, but happy.

Ned stood up from his spot on the floor and sat next to Peter. The tear stained boy rested his head onto his friend's shoulder. It was warm and soft. It felt nice.

They didn't even care that it was getting late. Ned should have been heading home by now. But that could wait. Now Peter was falling asleep on Ned's shoulder, and Ned wasn't the least bit bothered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kinda a vent fic sorry :^/


	7. Darling, You're Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When you hurt me, you hurt yourself. Please don't hurt yourself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a change of pov :0 (just for this chapter). Warning: this chapter has references to past sexual abuse, transphobia, and homophobia

Steve's muscular body was warm. The curves of his muscles were smooth and nice to touch. Tony traced his thumb around the bare biceps of the man. It was satisfying to breathe in the scent of him. Tony daringly pecked at Steve's collarbone. The blue eyed man hummed mindlessly as he stroked Tony's back.

"Steve."

"Tony."

"Stevie." The blond couldn't help but laugh. He already knew this game.

"What is it, Tony?"

"I love you."

"Hey, Tones?"

"What?" Tony smiled into his neck.

"I love you, too."

The two men laughed. They've done this countless time. When the room still smelled of sex and they layed tired in each other's arms, they would murmur their sweet confessions till they fell asleep. However, something was pestering his head.

"Tony, I have to talk to you."

"Uh oh. That's not good." Tony muttered jokingly.

"It's nothing bad, babe. I just need to tell you something."

Tony adjusted himself so that his head was propped up by his elbow. He stared into his partner's deep blue eyes. "Shoot."

"It's about the kid. Peter."

"What? You don't like him?"

"No, no. The opposite actually. He's a really good kid. It's just that...we're not good influences. I believe that what we do, fighting against homophobes and bullies, is right, but... Peter's too young and innocent to get into that kinda trouble. Y'know?"

"Stevie, honey. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." Tony playfully traced his finger around Steve'd chest. "I already told him when I dropped him off at his apartment. "

Steve still seemed speculative. "What did you tell him?"

"Exactly what you said." Tony said hurriedly, wanting to end this topic for tonight. "Now sleep. Peter's a good kid, he's smart enough not to do anything crazy. He can handle himself." Tony rested his head against the pillow, signaling to Steve that he was done talking.

Steve gave up and relaxed, too. Silence filled the room, but Steve was still awake. He was almost certain that Tony had fallen asleep, but he still spoke his final thoughts into the darkness of their small apartment bedroom.

"You were smart, too."

"What?"

Steve's heart immediately sunk. "I thought you were sleeping."

"'You were smart, too.' What the hell does that mean?" Tony's voice was clearly awake and agitated.

"Babe, it's nothing. Go back to sle-"

"Steve. Don't bullshit me." The room felt cold and cramped. Steve was frozen in fear.

"I mean...you said that Peter was a smart kid. And when Rhodey was still here, he would tell me about you when you were in college. And when I met Peter yesterday, he reminded me of... you." Steve's words came out slow, like he was choosing them very carefully.

"Okay? I still don't understand."

"Tony, listen. I love you. So much. But, I couldn't help but think of all the things you did. All the... mistakes."

Tony's body snapped up. He was sitting up, looking Steve dead in the eyes. "Oh. You're talking about _the_ mistake." His tone was awfully bitter.

"I didn't mean it like that." Steve said sadly.

"Steve, I barely know anything about Peter. I don't know about his parents or his friends or his personal life. And you know even less. My _mistake_ has nothing to do with him."

"I- I know! I'm sorry. Pepper and Nat just wanted me to talk to you. I didn't mean this to go out of hand."

Tony laughed, but with was humorless and cold. "Of course it would be their idea. Sweet, sweet Pepper. I date her for a year and she suddenly turns into the bad girl. And Nat, who I just wanted to help by giving her some loose change, becomes New York's fiercest fighter. All I ever do is fuck up people's lives. Is that what you're afraid of, Steve? That I'll fuck up Peter's life?"

"You don't fuck up people's lives, Tony! All I'm asking you to do is to not rope Peter into our shit! Or yours!"

"The only reason why I did what I did back then was because I was mad at my dad. I was an angsty, rebellious teenager with a lot of spite. And I'll admit, what I did was stupid and wrong, and I caused the first few times to happen. But after that, I didn't want it. That guy was a grown adult, he should have known better. And he went after me anyways."

"Tony, I understand-"

"No, you don't! Because you didn't have to go through what I did. When I came out to my dad, the first thing he did was slam my head into a table. The second, he hired a therapist for me. My parents were making less than minimum wage and he hired a _fucking therapist."_

"He was supposed to 'cure' me or some shit like that. I was so fucking pissed that my dad went through with it, that I teased that guy. And the fucking pervert let me. And I was glad that my dad was wasting his money."

"Tony, stop. Don't do this to yourself. I'm sorry, okay. I really-"

"And you know what? When ever we would have our normal meetings, he would call me by my dead name. But whenever we would.. y'know, he would call me 'Tony'. He said he wanted me to feel special. And I believed him and I fell into his fucking trap."

Tony's voice cracked, and he broke down crying. He choked on his angry sobs. Steve enveloped him in his arms and rubbed his back like he usually would during a panic attack.

"Tony, it's not you're fault. It's not. I need you to understand that you are perfect. Absolutely perfect, and what your dad did or what that guy did was not your fault." Steve murmured into Tony's ear.

Tony's sobs quieted. Tears continued to fall, but his expression was blank. His eyes focused on the wall in front of him. His body was quivering, but he was silent. Steve continued to stroke his back. After a few minutes, Tony freed himself from Steve's grasp. He got up from the bed, took his phone from the night stand, and left the room. Steve looked after him, worried.

"Tones? Where are you going?"

Tony did not reply.

In the living room sat Clint, watching some sort of horror movie on the cheap TV. When Tony appeared, he turned towards him, surprised.

"Hey, Tony. Thought you were asleep?"

Tony said nothing, simply sat down besides him and absentmindedly watched the movie. It was no surprise that Clint was awake, being the insomniac he was. But Tony so quiet and awake was strange. His restless nights were a thing of the past, and he hadn't had this kind of problem in months.

"It's called 'Sleepwalkers'. I heard it's really shitty, but also funny as hell." Clint attempted to catch the other's attention. It seemed to work, because Tony looked over at him. Clint hadn't noticed when Tony first walked in, but his eyes were bloodshot and wet.

"Tony, you alright?" Clint reached over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Clint, am I a bad person?"

"What- no, Tony. Of course not! Wh- why would you think- wait." Clint stammered. "Did Steve say something to you?"

Tony ignored the question. "Did I ruin your life when I brought you to the team?"

Clint smiled sadly. "Before I met you, I was living out in the streets, smoking and stabbing strangers just to survive. You didn't ruin anything."

"Yeah, well, you still smoke and stab people."

"But I didn't have you guys." Tony's gaze fell down to his lap. Clint continued. "Tony, you're my friend. You saved me. You saved all of us." He turned his attention back to the movie. "Now go back to bed before you become a night owl like me."

Instead of going back to his room, he walked over to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He searched thought the contacts on his phone till he reached the R's. He prested the call button on a certain name and placed the phone to his ear. The dial tone rang.

Doubtful thoughts entered his head. _Why would he ever pick up? He'd be absolutely insane to-_

"Tony?"

"Hi, Rhodes."

"Tony, why the hell are you calling me at almost two in the morning?" His voice was heavy with sleep.

"Am I a good person, Rhodey?"

"Yes, sweetie, you're an angel. Now for the love of God go back to sleep."

"I'm sorry for waking you up. I just... I just needed to... I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll go now."

"It's fine, Tones. Let's just talk in the morning, okay?" He no longer sounded exasperated.

"Okay. Thank you, Rhodey."

"No problem. Get some sleep, bud."

"I will."

The call ended. Tony washed his face and left the bathroom. Clint was still sitting on the sofa. Tony went back into his bedroom, where Steve was standing, looking out the wide apartment window. The blond man looked at him, his eyes wide with worry.

"Tony? Tony, listen I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to hurt you, I promise." Steve paced towards him. Tony didn't talk, but he met Steve in the middle and let himself be held by him.

The touch was warm and peaceful. Comforting amd safe. Steve buried his head into Tony's hair, whispering "I love you. I love you. I love you."

And Tony could feel it.


	8. Bittersweet Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You don't wanna be like me. You don't wanna see all the things I've seen._

Peter walked out of the school building, heading towards the sandwich shop on the corner he visited a few days ago. Ned had already waved goodbye to him, walking their usual route home without Peter.

He usually went to the shop on weekends when May didn't have anything planned for lunch, but Peter had some loose change in his pockets and thought that a few bags of gummy worms wouldn't hurt.

When he arrived, the shop was almost empty except for a few college students typing away on laptops. He greeted the store owner and payed for his candy quickly. Peter felt somewhat greedy, so as he was walking out of the store, he opened one of the bags and fished out a few gummy worms. They were sugary and sour. A few pieces stuck to the roof of his mouth and between his teeth. Peter was heading back home, focusing on prying the pieces of candy out of his teeth, when someone tapped his shoulder.

"Boo."

Peter swirled around swiftly, but relaxed when he recognized the man's features. He was wearing an oversized grey t-shirt and jeans.

"Hey, Tony! Nice to see you again." Peter greeted happily. He stuck the bag of candy towards Tony's direction. The man gingerly plucked one out and shoved it in his mouth.

"Thanks kid. Always good seeing you." The two walked along side each other, chewing on candy. "So, how was school?"

"Huh? Oh, school was good." Peter rambled. "Kinda boring, but I have most of my classes with my best friend, so it's fine. Besides, I'm getting really good grades, so my aunt is proud of me."

Tony's mind wandered for a second. He was brought back to his conversation with Steve last night. _You were smart, too._

"That's good. School's important. When I was your age I was pretty smart, too, but I never gave a shit about school. Thought I was too good for it."

"Yeah. Sometimes I feel like that, but Aunt May wants me to do good. Wants me to get a scholarship so she doesn't have to worry about paying for college." Peter mindlessly kicked at a pebble.

Tony continued. "So, you live with your aunt?"

Peter seemed hesitant to reply. "Yeah, my parents... passed away when I was young."

Tony felt a slight pang in his chest. "Oh, Pete, I'm sorry." He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, it's okay." Peter replied hurriedly. "I wasn't super close with them. Besides, my aunt takes good care of me. She always has."

He took his hand off Peter's shoulder.

"So, how are you, Tony?" The kid asked.

"Me? Oh, y'know. Fighting. Cleaning graffiti. Making graffiti. The usual." Tony answered, his voice monotone.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something." Peter piped up.

"Go ahead."

"Well, you guys usually talk about standing up to bigots and stuff. And that day when we crossed out the graffiti made me think. So are you- well this question may be personal and you don't have to answer it- but... are you gay?" The last part came out as a whisper.

Tony smiled. "Bi actually. So are Steve and Thor. Bruce, Nat, and Pepper are gay. And Clint...well I'm not sure what Clint is. I don't think Clint knows either. We're letting him figure it out." He looked back at Peter, who was wide eyed and gaping. "So, does that answer your question."

"Oh, um- yes! I was just wondering. And coming across other not straight people nearby is difficult, y'know."

"Yeah, I get you." He nodded. "So, you're gay?"

"N-no, I'm bi. And trans."

Tony felt his world tilt for a second. It was an unsettling feeling, finding someone so similar to you. He looked down at Peter. His smile was soft and unsure. He was tugging at the sleeves of his blue sweater. It seemed surreal. He was almost like an exact copy of him, like a younger version of himself. So uncertain and anxious. It scared him. Tony looked up again to gain a sense of where they were. His heart immediately settled when he knew where they were.

"Hey, you're home."

"Oh, yeah. Right." Peter smiled sadly, bummed that their walk was shorter than he wanted.

"It was nice talking to you again, Peter." Tony started in the direction they came from, but stopped. He turned back around. "Remember, kid, you've got my number. If you ever want to talk, y'know who to call." He walked away. He heard the kid call out a thanks as he opened the door to his building. When he heard the door shut behind him, Tony immediately took out a pack of cigarettes he kept in his pocket for emergencies. He plucked one out and lit it.

Tony wasn't much of a smoker, more of a drinker than anything. And a fighter. He hated to consider himself all three. But after a few puffs, his mind would settle. When he inhaled the smoke, it sent a chill down his spine. The putrid air left a bad taste in his mouth, but a good feeling in his mind. Tony walked back home.

Even as he smoked his cigarette till it was ash, he couldn't stop thinking about the kid, the smart, bisexual, transgender, anxious, innocent kid who reminded him of himself too much.


	9. Battleground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You're like wild animals, vicious and dangerous, yet beautiful all the same._

That Tuesday night, after Tony had walked him home, Peter thought about a decision he'd been trying to make. He was laying in bed on his stomach, his chin propped up on a pillow. Phone in his hand, he was pondering if he should tell Ned about the Avengers. It would definitely impress Ned, having his own group of "bodyguards" to protect him and let him go out to graffiti walls and beat up jerks and-

His train of thought stopped to a halt. The Avengers weren't his bodygaurds. The fact that he had even run into them in the first place was pure luck. And they probably wouldn't let a kid do all the dangerous stuff they did. They probably saw him as a glorified sidekick.

He let the phone drop from his hands, gracefully falling onto the bed. It was late at night. Peter could see the view of tiny stars from his bedroom window. Lazily, he pushed himself off of his bed, picked hid phone back up, and entered the kitchen area. In there was a sliding glass door which lead into a balcony. The view by day wasn't all that impressive, just overlooking more bland buildings. But at night, Peter could see the full night sky. Accompanied by the few lit windows of nearby apartments, it made the night time view pleasant.

Peter quietly opened the door, careful not to cause too much noise to wake up Aunt May. He sat himself down on one of the patio chairs and propped his legs on the balcony's railing. He was still wearing the clothes he had on that day, a hoodie and jeans. The air was cool, sweeping by his hair and face. It was a school night and he knew that he should be asleep, but tonight was one of those nights where something was bothering him. He just couldn't put his finger on it. 

Suddenly, Peter's phone buzzed in his hands and the screen lit up. He glanced at it. There was a new message from Michelle Jones, a girl in some of his classes. She was cool and slightly cryptic, spending most of her time drawing and observing people. Peter and her had only been acquaintances until Ned had decided to talk to her a few days ago. The three got along well and considered each other as friends.

_hey are u awake_

**yeah**

_there's a big fight or something going on by the park wanna check it out_

**idk it's late**

_Ned is gonna be there_

Shoot. MJ was known for reading people like a book, even strangers. By the time the three had properly met each other and became friends, she could probably see right through Peter and his little secret. It was mischievous of her to use it to lure Peter into whatever was going on at the park, but he had to admit that it worked.

**ok I'll go**

_we're already at your apartment hurry or we'll leave without u_

Peter slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. He looked out over the balcony. In the distance, he could see the park, the same one he went to with the Avengers. He could see a few groups of people, their faces were unrecognizable. He left, grabbing his sneakers on the way out. Carefully, he locked the door of his apartment behind him and headed downstairs to the ground level. At the bottom stood MJ and Ned, waiting for him.

"Hey, Peter." Ned smiled at him. MJ flipped him off, her usual greeting.

"Hi, guys. Why are we doing this again?" Peter questioned.

"I told you already. Big fight. I love fights and I didn't wanna go alone." MJ replied.

"Aww, you love us!" Ned beamed at her.

"Shut up, losers." She started walked swiftly towards the park. "C'mon I don't wanna miss it."

Ned and Peter followed behind her. The walk was mostly quiet. Crickets chirping and their foot steps thudding against the sidewalk were the only noises. Ned looked over at Peter.

"So, why were you awake?"

"I don't know. Why were _you_ awake?"

"Hey! I asked you first." Ned lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

"I really don't know. Guess I was just thinking about stuff." Peter shrugged. "What about you?"

"Thinking, too."

"You guys do a lot of thinking." MJ quipped, already far ahead of the boys.

"Yeah, you should try it sometime!" Ned yelled back. MJ raised her middle finger at them.

"I'm only gonna stay a few minutes. May doesn't like me going out at night." Peter was concerned about Aunt May waking up to find him gone. But, he could worry about it later. The three of them arrived at the park. MJ led them towards the makeshift baseball stadium which was surrounded by bleachers.

Apparently a lot of other kids knew about this fight, for the bleachers were already littered with drunk or high teenagers. The lights around the arena were glaring. He, Ned, and Michelle sat near the top of one of the more empty bleachers. Peter could see more kids entering the park. He was overwhelmed by the smell of booze and weed. It reminded him of the party on Saturday, but he tried to repress that memory.

He took out his phone. _12:20 am_ it read. He sighed. "What time is this thing supposed to start?" Michelle only shrugged. He hoped that he wouldn't just be sitting around on a cold metal bench surrounded by stoned high schoolers for nothing. Peter wasn't even a fan of violence, but he could at least spend some time with Ned.

Some of the other kids started an uproar when a group of adults entered. Instead of sitting at the bleachers, they stood in the middle of the baseball park. There were three men and a women. One man was extremely tall and buff, bit the other two seemed intimidating, too. The woman was covered in tattoos and dark makeup.

"So is this the fight?" Peter asked MJ again. A nearby stoner answered the question instead. "Nah, not yet. There's still another group."

Peter was growing impatient. He was considering telling MJ and Ned tgat he was going to leave, but then the kids made an even bigger riot when another group entered. Peter almost dropped his phone. His blood went cold.

The other group also had three men and a woman. Tony. Steve. Thor. Nat.

The teens continued to yell. They pounded the bleachers with their feet, rattling the worn down metal. Many of them screamed at the two teams to start fighting. Peter wanted to run, but he couldn't help but be curious. After all, Tony had said that they knew how to fight. Peter stayed in his seat, gripping the bench in anticipation.

The first group moved away from the middle and backed into one of the corners. The Avengers did the same. The audience settled down a bit. The more muscular man of the first group stepped forward. Then came in Thor. It seemed the two teams already had this planned out. The audience couldn't contain their excitement.

The woman with tattoos yelled out. "3...2...1...GO!"

In an instant, the two men tackled each other. The teenagers went wild. Many screamed things like "Break his neck!" and "Go for the face!" The action was unbelievable. Thor slammed the guy in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He pinned him to the ground and continued to punch him in the gut. After enough hits, Thor stood back. The other man didn't get up, only twitched in pain. Thor raised his arms to the sky in celebration and the audience cheered.

Thor walked back to his group. The other guy managed to limp his way back to his. Up next, Nat and the tattooed woman stepped forward. A few guys in the audience whistled at them.

This time Steve was to one who called out "3...2...1...GO!"

The fight started the same way as the last one. The comments that the audience, mostly the guys, yelled out were more vulgar and sexual. MJ rolled her eyes. "Men" she muttered in disgust. Peter had to agree.

Nat sent her knee up to the other woman's chest. The woman tugged at her hair. They continued to claw at each other. At one point, Natasha scratched the woman's face. She gasped in pain, giving Nat the opportunity to send her to the floor. She did the same to her as Thor did to his opponent, and the woman was unable to get back up. The audience cheered again.

Nat and the woman returned to their teams. Steve and one of the other guys stepped forward. They wasted no time in starting the round, for Tony had bellowed, "3...2...1...GO!"

Instead of running towards each other, Steve stood in place and let the other man come to him. When he was close enough, Steve picked up the man and slammed him to the ground. The audience screeched with excitement. Steve was easily able to attack the guy, punching him till Peter could see blood coming from his nose. He stood back, and like the last two, weren't able to stand up.

Steve strolled over to his group, while the man had to be carried away by two of his teammates. The remaining two fights, Tony and his opponent, stepped toward the center. Peter grew incredibly anxious. Ned seemed to notice this.

"Hey, bud, you alright?"

"What? Y-yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You're shaking a lot."

He _was_ shaking. And he did not feel alright at all. But he lied and smiled at Ned, then turned his attention back to the fight. He didn't even hear the usual starting announcement. The fight already began.

Tony seemed to be in the lead, sending several punches into the opponent's face and chest. But the other fighter wasn't having it. When he had the chance, he sent his fist flying into Tony's jaw. The audience rioted. Peter gasped under his breath. "Shit!"

Tony stumbled backwards. He hurled himself towards the guy, sending them both to the ground. The two were able to get many punches and kicks onto each other. The guy shoved Tony off him with a kick. Tony's head titled back, his sight obstructed by the bright stadium lights. Peter could see his face in the light. Bright crimson blood shone as it pooled underneath his nose. He could even see Tony struggling to breathe.

Peter, filled with fierce excitement, shouted. "Kick his ass, Tony!"

He was instantly taken aback by his own words, but it didn't matter much. His cry was drowned out by the several other teenagers who yelled their own violent comments. Nobody really noticed. 

But.

Peter observed the fighters. The opponent was charging at Tony at a dangerous speed. But Tony wasn't focused on his opponent. He was looking up at _him._ His expression was a strange combination of surprise, fear, and disappointment. Maybe even sadness. But it soon vanished when Tony was tackled, knocking him to the ground in an instant.

The man wasted no time on bombarding Tony. He sent several blows to his head, jerking Tony's skull back and forth painfully. The glow of the surrounding stadium lights seemed to center on the assault. Blood was splattered on the dirt around them. Peter watched in horror as he watched a man he knew, a man he cared about, be pummeled to the ground like a rag doll.

After a while, the man got up. The audience expected Tony to lay there helpless like the other defeated fighters, but he rose slightly, balancing himself on his elbows. He stared at the ground with wide, fearful eyes. The man then rained on him again, kicking him in the back until he was on the ground again.

But Tony didn't stop. He struggled to his knees and, once again, was faced with more blows to the face. Peter cringed as he watched Tony attempt to get up again. Why wasn't he stopping?

The guy got onto his knees and looked Tony straight in the eyes. He whispered something inaudible to him, and the rest of the audience could only watch helplessly. Then the man starting yelling.

"Are you giving up? You're fucking pathetic! C'mon! Get up!"

Tony did not reply. He barely even moved. He just stared mindlessly at the blood stained dirt below him. The man hit him again.

"GET UP!" Slam.

"YOU'RE A QUITTER! FIGHT ME, QUITTER!" Crack.

Scream. Hit

Scream. Hit.

It didn't stop. Tears threatened in the corners of Peter's eyes. The pattern continued. It was like time had stopped and the same scene was playing over and over like a broken record. He wanted it to stop.

And after a few moments, it did. After one last kick to the head, the man stepped back. Tony did not get up. The man returned to his team. No one cheered. Not a single noise.

Natasha, who had been watching the whole scene, also mortified, walked towards the center with the rest of her team. She raised her voice at the audience. "Okay, everyone get the fuck out of here or I'm calling the cops!" The teenagers booed, bit they soon started to file out of the park. Peter couldn't feel his legs. His whole body had gone cold.

Ned tapped his shoulder. "C'mon, Peter. Let's go home." Peter, still stunned, nodded and stood up. He followed the rest of the kids out towards the entrance. As he walked out, he looked back at the fight scene. Nat and the tattooed woman were exchanging money. A larger amount was given to Nat, but she then bitterly handed over some to the other woman. Before turning back to the rest of her team, she snarled something to the woman. The teams separated.

Peter glanced at Tony, who was sitting up on the ground, still covered in his own blood. Steve was next to him, comforting him and trying to get him to stand up. Peter turned away and walked along side his friends. He didn't want to see anymore carnage.

That night he got home safely. He managed to get back inside without waking Aunt May. He stumbled back into his room and crawled into bed. He stared up at the ceiling.

Open. Ceiling.

Closed. Dark.

Scream. Hit.

His eyes snapped back open. He didn't sleep at all that night.


	10. Better Than Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But it was not your fault, but mine. And it was your heart on the line. I really fucked it up this time. Didn't I my dear?_

Scream. Hit.

It reminded him of his dad. He would come home late at night, smelling of booze and cigarette smoke. His mom would ask, her voice vicious with anger, "Where were you?" He would hit her. Then Tony would step out of his room to see what all the commotion was about. And when his eyes would lay on the crime scene, he knew he would be the next victim. And he would lay numb and take it.

Scream. Hit.

He lost track how many times the guy hit him. He wasn't even listening to what he was saying. He just layed numb and took it.

It stopped. It didn't quite feel like it stopped. He could still hear his dad's drunk voice in the back of his head. But Tony's eyes glazed up to see the other team already walking away. A shadow casted over him. A large, gentle hand rested on his back.

"Tony? Tony, it's over. Please get up."

Tony shifted a little, but did not get up. His face felt too cold and wet. It was probably covered with blood. He moved again, trying harder to stand up. Something in his chest was screeching in pain. He sunk back down.

"Tony, I'm gonna help you up, okay? I need you to work with me here. Things are gonna be okay."

Two pairs of arms lifted him up off the ground. There was still an agonizing pain all over his body. He struggled to breathe, it felt like his ribs were obstructing his lungs. He also couldn't see. Everything was a blurry mess. He wasn't sure if it was the impact of the blows to the head or his tears.

"Tones? Hey Tony, can you hear me?"

Tony nodded at the familiar voice.

"We're gonna walk to the car. Can you walk?"

His legs were mostly fine, so he nodded again. One of the pair of arms let go. He leaned upright against the other pair. The arms held Tony tightly around his waist. Slowly, the trudged to the parking lot. They were silent and only focused on getting Tony to the back seat of the car. Once inside, Tony leaned again the car door, staring blankly out the window.

The view was dark and empty. Only a few lights from nearby apartment buildings were glowing in the night. Tony cringed at the pain in his chest that made it hard to breathe. He lifted his hand up to his face and wiped underneath his nose, which was drenched with blood. His hand was stained with dark crimson splotches.

The car started. Nat sat in the driver seat and Thor in the passenger seat. Steve was next to him. Tony refused to look at him, he looked too terrible. Even without lookin, Tony could tell that Steve was staring at him. He felt his blue eyes peirce through him as he sat there devastated. The car was uncomfortably quiet.

"I'm sorry." Tony spoke.

Everyone else became uneasy, unsure of what to say. Nat replied first. "Don't worry about it, Tones. It was only fifty bucks. Besides, we got one-fifty in return."

"I-I just don't know what happened to me." He admitted.

"We've all lost before, Stark. It's alright." Thor chimed in.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't- I-"

"Tony," Steve said. "Relax. It's okay. This wasn't your fault and we're not upset, okay? Just calm down. You're hurt."

Tony stared aimlessly out the window, watching as buildings and people passed by in a flash. His chest felt vacant, like something else needed to be said. He just couldn't find the right words.

"I'm sorry."

No one spoke for the rest of the trip.

Natasha pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building. The group piled out of the vehicle and walked into their room. Inside were Bruce, Clint, and Pepper. Pepper and Nat had their own apartment, separate from the guys, but since most of them were out, Pepper was hanging out in their room tonight.

As the four bruised fighters entered the room, the other pairs of eyes were immediately attached to Tony, who was covered with an overwhelming amount of bruises and dried blood.

Clint, who was laying on the couch, sat up in a snap. "Holy shit, Tones! You look awful!" Nat, who happened to be walking by the couch, punched Clint in the arm. Tony didn't reply. Instead he made his way to his bedroom, ignoring everyone else.

"What happened to him?" Pepper asked, her voice heavy with concern. "You guys said this group you were fighting was going to be easy."

"They were easy." Thor spoke, sitting on the ground against the couch with Bruce.

"So why did Tony look so fucked up?" Bruce questioned. Nat, standing behind the couch, gave him a warning look. Bruce seemed to notice her glare. "Sorry."

"I-I'm not exactly sure why." Steve replied. "He just got caught off guard and the other guy just went at him like crazy. Tony couldn't even get up after that."

"You should check up on him, Steve." Pepper suggested. Steve nodded and headed into his bedroom. The lights were off. The only source of light was the moon shining through the slightly parted curtains. Tony stood in front of a tall mirror, shirtless. He was inspecting his reflection, looking at every dark purple-blue mark on his chest. When Steve walked in, he flinched, covering his exposed body with the shirt he was holding. Steve locked the door behind him.

"It's just me, Tony." Steve stated calmly. The other man relaxed a little, but still seemed anxious by Steve's presence. He put the shirt back down and continued to view himself in the mirror. Steve stood behind him and rested his head on Tony's shoulder. He snaked his arms around the bruised man's waist. He gingerly kissed his neck and shoulder, feeling the goosebumps rise on his partner's limbs.

"I love you." Steve breathed the statement into the nape of Tony's neck.

"Why?"

Steve was stunned by his question. He pulled away and looked into the mirror. Tony was looking away at one of the corners in the room. Steve could see the damage on his body. All of the bruises and cuts and scars were so prominent, unable to be ignored.

"Why wouldn't I, darling?"

Tony laughed bitterly. "Because I'm a fucking mess. All I do is fight, drink, smoke, and fuck. And I'm not even good at two of those things."

"If one of those things you're talking about is fighting, then you're wrong. You're one hell of a fighter, and you're stronger and braver than anyone I've ever met." He placed another kiss on his shoulder. "And if the other thing is fucking, then you're more than wrong."

Tony, who was still avoiding eye contact, genuinely laughed at Steve's comment. "Thanks, babe."

"So why'd you ask? You think I don't love you?"

"No, I know that you love me. I just wanted to know why. _Why?"_

"Because you're beautiful. And you're not afraid to fight for what you believe in. And you're funny. Y'know I could go on all night listing stuff, right?" The blonde man smiled against his skin.

"Oh please do." The brunette grinned.

"Generous. Energetic. Bright. Loving. Handsome. Sexy." Between every word, Steve pecked his lips onto Tony's bare shoulder. "Sensitive. Wonderful. Clever. Daring."

Steve continued with his words and kisses. Tony's eyes never tore away from the corner of the room. He kept his breathing steady, building up the courage to speak, but the words were stuck on his tongue. He felt Steve's warm lips on him and his mind couldn't focus. He waited till he stopped. After what seemed like forever, Steve quieted down.

"I saw Peter at the fight." His voice trembled. The silence that lingered afterwards was awful. Tony didn't dare move or even breathe.

"Is that why you got distracted?" Steve asked. Tony nodded.

"I didn't want him to be there. I-I told him that I wasn't a good influence. And I even talked to him and while we were talking, he kept telling me things about his life and... he reminded me of myself. And it scared me, Steve."

"It's okay, Tones." Steve reminded him. He traced his fingers along his hips, circling around the already fading bruises.

"I don't want him to be like me. I don't want anyone to be like me." Tony ranted. "I'm fucking awful."

"No, you're not."

"I'm so fucking awful. I'm just..." Tony paused to catch his breath. He was panting and tears were forming in his eyes. "I'm-"

"Stop it, Tony. Just stop."

"You said it yourself, Steve. I used to be smart and good, but now..." Tony finally looked at his reflection. "I'm going to ruin lives."

Steve removed his arms from his waist and placed them on his shoulders. He turned his partner towards him. "No, Tony. You are not terrible or awful. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Tony only nodded, tears falling from his dark eyes. He moved away from Steve's grasp. "I'm tired."

"Okay." Steve didn't bother to say anything more than that, for he was tired, too. The two men slid into bed, Tony burying his head underneath Steve's chin. He could hear his partner's heart beating, steady and slow. After a while, Tony drifted to sleep, Steve soon following after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer ended and I'm going back to school so updates are going to be less frequent. :( I'll try to write on the weekends or whenever I have time sorry


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